Simbelmyne
by SageoWind218
Summary: Simbelmyne is the flower that grows on the tomb of men who are dead, but why does it grow on an Elf's? Slight AU and slash.


In The Two Towers, Simbelmynë is the flower that covers the graves of the kings before Théoden and his son. Simbelmynë is called "Evermind" in the index of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I thought about it and found it to be the so-called "Bright eyes in the Grass" or "The Flower where dead men rest." What if Legolas died and it covered his grave? What if his grave was in Minas Tirith? I think that would be strange and yet an amazing challenge to accomplish. 

So, Lord of the Rings is owned by Tolkien and New Line Cinemas. Any song in here is copyrighted with the song just after it is shown. They may be altered and a note will be put if they are.

Warning: Slash, Depression, and Character Death. 

*This is an AU to the ROTK movie/book. Legolas is slayed while they are distracting Sauron's eye away from Frodo and Sam.

_

'Simbelmynë'

_

"Simbelmynë... It is the flower that grows on the graves of men who have left this world. But why does it grow on yours, _Meldanya?'_

The answer was silent as the leave of rust and gold cascaded down from the trees of the trees above, rustling as they floated down onto the earth below. White flowers of death dotted the mound and they swayed in the breeze, as if calling out to those who would listen. 

Semi-gray hair stayed in place, like the silver steel crown that sat atop the hair stayed still, withstanding the softness of the wind's caress that seemed to bring upon memories of the hands that seemed so silk-like... and yet so strong, holding in the power behind the lightness of the fragile form of the distant memory of a long-forgotten Elf. 

"You fought so hard that day... so valiantly. Oh, how the last words past your lips was the call of my name! _Meldanya, Di'twai nu... Vanya, Nu... _that is how I remember your face... no other had such grace like you did... You were an angel to of the peoples of Middle-Earth. You were the prized star on a winter's chilling night to your realm of Mirkwood... So, why are you taken away from my embrace and put onto the White Shores before I... even though you are given the grace of Immortality?" The king gave a wistful sigh before twirling the stem of the Simbelmynë he held between his fingers it danced as though it were a dancer, turning idly about in a fashion of light and beauty. 

"I remember watching that accursed crimson staining from pale face. How I tried to make you hold on... How I tried to make you leave before the journey of the Fellowship began... but no, you stubborn Elf. You had to stay and fight by my side. At least I was permitted to hold you in my arms again..."

The reminiscent state of thought took his wrinkled and calloused façade and irises as he breathed in the autumn wind that reminded him far too much of the past. This was the day they had met for the first time, when Legolas first came to Imladris. The sapphires that bore through his gray eyes pierced his very heart, and soon the light of the Elf shone to Aragorn as though it were the doorway to Heaven, and the man fell in love with that light that resembled _Eärendil_, the Evening Star of the Elves. Long days and nights were spent together, speaking of tales of Gondor and Valinor. Whenever they spoke of _Eressëa_, Legolas seemed to have become quiet and unusually uncomfortable. Osgiliath, the Citadel of the Stars, was one of Estel's favorite stories. Such wars had been fought and victories had been won so courageously and surprisingly, as though the defenders of the Citadel were weaponless in the youth's eyes. No more was he a youth, but the smooth voice could still be heard through the confines of his mind. The voice of the angel...

__

"Is Legolas an Ithil'quessir, Ada?"

The question of Legolas' light brought speculation to the young mind, as Aragorn recalled. He had heard tales that only certain Elves were of descendants the rarely known 'Moon-Elves'. The blonde Elf had let it slip accidentally while speaking of the many kinds of Legolas' kin. If he remembered correctly, there were _Elandili, Cala'quessir, Ear'quessir, Ithil'quesser, Mith'quessir, Amrun'quessir, Taur'quessir, _and Woodland. Each, to the lad, came no where near the loveliness the platinum-haired Elf carried upon in his step as he walked throughout all of the land. He was a living angel, and nothing could compare.

(A/N: I couldn't find a Elvish name for 'Woodland. If anyone has it, e-mail me and I'll change it.) 

Elrond's face had looked amused after the shocking inquisition Aragorn had asked. The smile shined through the aging musings as though they had just been witnessed and the feel of the hand upon his shoulder felt all too real. _"Nay, Elessar... he is from the realm of the Forest of Mirkwood... Does he seem such to you?" _Elrond had asked that query as if Estel was just teasing. Now as the king looked upon the metal image, and then snorted, finding the inquiry insulting in this time. He was an adolescent, and he didn't need to be treated as such in his venerable age. 

__

"Yes, Ada! He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen! He is more beautiful then the way you describe Galadriel in your stories of Loríen!" 

"Ada!"

The childlike voice echoed through the elderly mind merrily. He turned to find his son, the same image of a male child of Undómiel, running to him, giggling as he was picked up by his father's strong arms and raised into the air as though he were a holy figure to all those who resided in Middle-Earth. Aragorn brought his son down and held the child to his chest. "_Ada_?" the ebony-haired boy began as he tilted his head to gaze at his proud father. "_Taneavë_?" the old utterance was filling the ears of the shorter male, and it vibrated them, tickling him soundly.

"Who is.... L-l... leg-....-gow...-"

"Legolas..." Aragorn said for his son, tears forming at the rim of his eyes. It seemed like a dream, hearing his son ask of such an invaluable person. "He is... _was _the Prince of Mirkwood. He died in the last battle... The battle at the Black Gates of Mordor..." Aragorn winced in disgust as he mentally saw the elegant Elf, light withering and the graced blood pooled upon the ashened dirt. The last sight he had ever seen was the king and the Tower of Barad-dûr tumbling into ruin behind the figure of his lover. 

Yes, lover. The young Aragorn, five years older, making him _laelar, _had told Legolas his feelings of _nu for _elegant prince of Mirkwood. Oh, how those azure eyes that held the hue and sparkle of the Sea, though he had never it personally, still bested all. But the startled expression became one of joy and they embraced warmly. Legolas had accepted him and they were to marry that autumn, the day they had first met. But fate did not smile upon him later, for the man had also gained the love of the Evenstar. He had spoke to his _Meldanya _after the confession, and they came with a sad, but an essential choice.

__

"You are the heir of Isildur... You need a queen, for if you take what is truly yours, you will need an offspring. I can give you no such thing, Nu... Take her... For she is wanted by many. You... should be proud she has chosen you over many."

And as time went on, he finally accepted that he loved Arwen in a way; as though she were a sister. But, this emotion towards her was disguised by a so-called true love. They spent time together and it pained the gray-haired man to hear her voice in a melodic torture as she sang. Long had he avoided the throne and responsibilities of a king by becoming a Ranger and roaming the valleys and mountains. Soon, right before the war was to end, he learned of Arwen's nearing death, and he grasped his destiny with a relented, but eager hand. The ache worsened after the ruin of Legolas and his marriage with the Evenstar. He looked onto both in antipathy, but grew accustomed to their hardship. And soon, the pain drifted away like the ebbing tide of the water that carried the ships full of Elves back to the shore of _Aman. _

__

"To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,

The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.

West, west away, the round sun is falling.

Gray ship, gray ship, do you hear them calling,

The voices of those who gone before me?

I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;

For our days our ending and our years are failing..."

"Where is he...?"

Aragorn glanced at his son before beaming at him in a melancholy style, trying to conjure up a way to make his son understand the process of the deceased. "He is most likely in spirit... and in spirit, you can walk on white shores, where your kin who left before you, and many others, harmonize in the land of happiness... when you die and leave this realm... you shall see him..."

"Your mother is the Evenstar of her people... but to me, Legolas was a precious star to his kin also... remember that, my son..." 

Placing the youth down, the child ran towards the gates of Minas Tirith and, knowing his offspring was safe, he turned his attention back to the Elf's grave, smiling at the white 'stars' that covered the beauty below the earth. Simbelmynë... such a deceiving flower, and yet, one that symbolizes so much to the men. Legolas had told him, after they had reached Edoras, how enchanting the snow-like blossom was to his eyes. Aragorn had noticed the frosted happiness that darkened the Elvish eyes of sapphire. Now, he could see them on his sepulcher, still as charming as the day he had first laid eyes upon them... 

__

"Di'twai nu, Meldanya... él síla nim ... like you did_... "_

The king shifted to walk towards the gates of the Tower of the Guard, his cape flowing behind him in a revering flap. He glanced over his shoulder, to gaze at the ivory pulchritude that speckled on the tomb of royalty, only to see a lambent Elf looked to him, smiling as he watched the king leave. Aragorn drew in air as he gasped, looking inattentively to the glowing, lithe frame. 

So familiar... and yet so foreign to the icy eyes that stared upon the phosphorescent physique that was clad in a tight gown with diamonds sewn into the silk. An Elvish band curved the fair head and was decorated in the same gems with a few that hung by a small round silver loop. A necklace of snow and sterling fit comfortably around the Elf's neck, once more carried the crystals like the crown and gown did. It was in a flower-like design that much resembled the Simbelmynë. The pale lips opened softly and only the ears of the decrepit man standing soundlessly caught the whispering. 

__

"Di'twai nu, Estel..."

The light faded, as so did the Elf. The aged king stood like a statue in his place, unable to understand the event that baffled him as he stood in a reverie daze. The gust of red and gold leaves began to fly around the man, as they whispered the song lost long ago...

__

"I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.

Long are the waves on the Lost Shore falling,

Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,

In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,

Where the leaves fall not; land of my people for ever..." 

The whispers fell silent, then ended the lyric sweetly as the breeze died in the sunset.

"Namárïe..." 

_

This really sucks... I hate this story... I don't even know if I did the Elvish right... here are the translations...

Meldanya- My Beloved

Di'twai nu- I love you

Vanya- Beautiful

Nu- Love, as in bond

Eärendil- The Evening Star of the Elves, the gift Galadriel gives Frodo before the Fellowship leaves Loríen

Eressëa- The Blessed Realm- another word used for Valinor. 

Ithil'quessir- Moon-Elf

Ada- Father

Elandili- Half-Elf 

Cala'quessir- High Elf 

Ear'quessir- Sea Elf 

Mith'quessir- Gray Elf 

Amrun'quessir- Sunrise Elf

Taur'quessir- Sylvan Elf . 

-If the Elves are not correct, tell me...-

Taneavë- Yes

Laelar- Seventeen

Aman- The Undying Lands- another term for Valinor

Él síla nim- A star shines white -?-

Namárïe- Farewell

If any of them are wrong, please tell me. Oh, and the song is called "Legolas' Song of the Sea." You can find it in the ROTK book by Tolkien. It kind of made me think of ships taking you to 'Heaven' known to Middle-Earth and you seeing everyone who has died. Also, no _live man _can find it, and since Elves can hear things others can't, why don't they hear death calling them? Well, I tried to make it seem... acceptable. 


End file.
